


The Price of War

by MezMoriah



Series: Tales of Nabooru [2]
Category: Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MezMoriah/pseuds/MezMoriah
Summary: Nabooru learns the perils and tragedies of war through her best friend's loss. Pre Ocarina of Time, during Hyrule's Civil War





	The Price of War

Nabooru grinned in triumph as yet another eight-year-old fell to her practice swords. Aveil cheered and clapped her hands as the girl brushed sand from her rump, muttering curses as she joined the group of her defeated peers. Before the younger girls had proven that the rumors of a true, up and coming five-year-old were in fact incredibly true, the two were practicing for their lesson the next day. Their instructor had threatened a test on form due to “too much giggling” during her lecture. And her glare at the two of them suggested would make their particular tasks far more taxing and difficult than the rest of the class. The quintet had approached them, spitting their snide remarks about the babies playing with their toys. Before Nabooru could respond, Aveil snapped right back, ensuring all of them that her best friend could make a fool out of all them. 

“Yeah, and don’t come back!” Aveil shouted after them, throwing a wooden sword at their backs. “This girl will be...she’ll be slashing down armies by age nine!” 

“Eight!” Nabooru corrected. “And don’t forget to tell your mommies about this! I’m sure they’ll be proud!” 

“Right! Eight!” Aveil giggled and skipped over to pick up her chucked practice sword from the sand where it had fallen. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and blew a last raspberry at their retreating backs before sprinting back toward Nabooru. She tackled her to the ground and they tumbled in the sand, laughing as they wrestled. 

A throat cleared above their heads, snapping a pair of gold eyes upward and halting their play. Nabooru released Aveil’s hair—she had been trying to make her eat sand while she pinned her down—and the two scrambled to their feet. Leader Yazu and her second in command, Bruvi, towered over the girls. Complete opposites and leaving most to wonder how they accomplished much of anything, Yazu watched the young Gerudo brush the sand off their limbs, clothes, and backs through kind, amber eyes that matched the gem on her forehead. She had braided her hair and twisted it into a bun at the crown of her head. Pink-painted lips were loose but neutrally set. A woman with a thin but powerful frame, she stood tall, hands behind her back. 

Bruvi, on the other hand, regarded both girls with a scrunched nose that suggested she had smelled something rotten. Her red brows set low over her yellow eyes and her downturned lips convinced Nabooru of the worst (those tattletales! She should have hit them harder!), the sharp lines of her bob haircut that stopped precisely at defined cheekbones only accentuating the assumptions. She had a whole head of height on the Gerudo leader, and the definition of her muscles only further added to the intimidation she exuded on all within a fifty-meter radius. 

Suddenly remembering their manners concerning the rank of their betters beneath the second’s harsh stare, Nabooru and Aveil bent forward in a quick bow and a speedy greeting of the two women. When they straightened again, Yazu offered them both a gentle smile, though Nabooru noticed it failed to reach her eyes. With the war, she noticed most of the older women could hardly manage a proper smile. 

“Aveil?” 

The two girls exchanged panicked glances before Aveil stepped forward. She bowed. “Th-That’s me, Exalted Leader Yazu. How can I...um...how can I...?” 

“Don’t worry about formalities, vehvi.” Yazu held her hand out to her. “Can you come with us? Bruvi and I need to speak with.” 

Nabooru’s heart thudded in her chest. What had those tattletales told the adults? In fairness, Aveil and herself had done nothing truly wrong. In fact, she felt they should be praised for taking extra steps to better their skills as warriors! She swallowed and shrugged as Aveil’s wide, panicked eyes landed on her again. She tried to smile, but it twisted more into a grimace. 

Finally, Aveil rested her small hand in their leader’s with a nod. Her free hand dove in her pocket, the one part of her that could hide in that moment. 

Nabooru attempted the smile again when Aveil looked back over her shoulder at her as they walked back toward the fortress. “I’ll see you at dinner! I’ll save you your usual seat!” she called after her. “Promise!” 

\----------------------------- 

Dinner passed with no sign of Aveil. Nabooru even waited until the mess hall nearly emptied and the cooks ushered her out so they could clean up for the next meal. Their shared room in the barracks stood empty, everything exactly as they had left it before leaving for their daily lessons. The blankets on Aveil’s bed remained neat and unruffled, her warrior doll perched on her pillow with her legs out in front of her. Nabooru worried that their fun had gotten Aveil into serious trouble. What if they exiled her? She had heard of that happening in the past. Would she be next? 

She rested the plate of Aveil’s favorites next to her doll, knowing she would likely be hungry when she returned. Just as she retrieved her night clothes from beneath her pillow, a knock sounded on the wooden doorframe. Her heart jumped into her throat. Bruvi and Yazu had come for her now, she just knew it. Nabooru swallowed and slowly turned around, tiny fingers curling into her palms at her sides as she tried to still her shaking frame. 

“C-come in,” she stuttered, eying the scarlet curtain over the door. 

The face that appeared as the curtain opened, while neither the stern glare of Bruvi or the tender smile of Yazu, was one she knew better than any other. Her mother, Adena, pushed the curtain aside with the smile that never failed to soothe the young Gerudo in any situation. She had a demeanor warmer than the desert sun, and she was known for her devotion to her daughter and her people. Though she did not hold Elite status, her kindness and talent as the head seamstress earned her renown amongst the Gerudo. 

“Mama? What are you doing down here?” Despite her questions, she accepted her mother’s open armed invitation, snuggling into her bosom when her feet left the floor in her warm embrace. “Aren’t you busy mending the army’s clothes and stuff?” 

Adena pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, laughing when she scrunched her nose at the affection. “Is my little warrior too tough for kisses so soon? I thought I still had a few years.” 

Nabooru wiggled in protest as her mother squeezed her one last time before setting her feet back on the stone floor. “Did you see Aveil when you came down here?” she asked. “I...I think we might be in trouble again, and she didn’t come to dinner.” 

The woman’s smile wavered. Her eyebrows then slackened as sadness filled her eyes. She perched herself neatly on the edge of Nabooru’s bed and patted the seat next to her. “Sit with me, little warrior.” 

The morose set of her expression pumped the young Gerudo’s heart quicker, her stomach churning and threatening to eject her dinner. She sat with her mother, fiddling with the fabric of her pants. “Is it Aveil? Did they throw her out? We were just playing with those older girls, honest! They were saying we weren’t tough and--” 

“Sh, it’s not about that, vehvi.” Adena untied her daughter’s hair from its high ponytail. She dusted the sand from it with one hand and grabbed her brush from the table between the beds. As she dragged it through Nabooru’s hair, she continued. “You met Aveil’s mother. Vanas?” 

“The legendary Vanas,” the young Gerudo sighed. One of her idols. The only women able to fight even close to her skill were Bruvi and Yazu. “She’s our best general. Did she break a new record in a battle? How many did she take on her own this time?!” 

Adena remained silent for several moments, the only sound in the room the bristles in Nabooru’s hair and the crackle of the flame of the candles. “She fought bravely, yes.” 

“Fought?” Nabooru lifted her gaze to meet her mothers, noting the tears shining in the corners of her eyes. “Is she home, then? Did we...win?” 

Replacing the brush on the table, Adena sighed a shuddering breath. “Vanas fell in battle, cut down from behind. Her entire company joined her or were taken prisoner.” 

The widening of her daughter’s eyes forced her to snatch up her small hand. Only the luckiest of young Gerudo could shelter themselves from death. It plagued their people in the form of starvation, dehydration, the elements of their wasteland home, and battle. Young or old, it did not discriminate there. But the shock came for her in the form of her own dreams’ golden shimmer peeling away as no more than gold plating, revealing the price of the path she hoped to follow. A part of her always knew what could happen to her as a warrior for her people, but death by the sword in a glorious fight to the death appealed to her far more than waiting for something else to take her. But this war, especially news of their best fighter falling, even to another so cowardly as to attack from behind, reminded her that even the best could be bested. 

Nabooru swiped at the tears that formed in her own eyes before burying her face in her mother’s side. She sobbed silently. For Vanas. For all the other Gerudo lost, the notably emptier mess hall and missing guard posts. For Aveil as she could hardly imagine how she felt. 

“I wanted to tell you because this will be a hard time for Aveil,” Adena said, her voice hardly above a whisper as she rubbed her daughter’s back. “She’ll need your friendship more than ever, little warrior. It is hard losing your mother. Be there for her, but only discuss it when she wants, okay?” 

Nabooru nodded against her side. “Can I see her?” 

Adena remained silent for several moments before finally nodding. “I’ll take you down below. But you need to be quiet and respect the mourners.” 

\----------------------------- 

Nabooru had ventured into the depths of the fortress on more than one occasion, mostly ordered to complete some sort of chore or errand for a teacher or some other higher up. Down here, they maintained fewer torches, meaning the long halls were cast in shadow for stretches at a time with no windows for sunlight’s aid. Many of the rooms were used for storage—weapons, food and water rations, blankets, and any other odd or end one could think of—but the Gerudo utilized the largest chamber down a final flight of stairs as a crypt of sorts. A place to rest the bodies of the deceased and fallen on rows of raised daises until proper funeral rites could be performed and to give friends and family a place to mourn and say their final goodbyes in private. 

Following her mother, they paused in the doorway. Adena raised the torch she held high, better illuminating the short case of stairs leading down to the crypt. Nabooru cast her gaze to the room before her, gripping her mother’s pant leg and hesitating to enter. The only other time she had entered this particular room in the fortress was on an errand to deliver a message to Zana, the head healer, whose mother had just passed to illness. This was before the war. Before bodies were carted down by the dozens, cut up or riddled with arrows. Thus, to see nearly every dais occupied with bodies—some uncovered that she recognized, others obscured by a white sheet with blood soaking through—shocked her when, before, she had only seen a few. 

She swallowed and scanned the room, gaze finally resting on Aveil and her older sister, Kija, toward the back of the crypt. Their backs were to her, Kija’s arm around Aveil’s shuddering shoulders, the fourteen-year-old trying to keep her composure for her little sister. Nabooru glanced up at her mother, a nod of reassurance all she needed to descend and make her way across the room to her friend. She worried the ends of her hair as she passed mourners sobbing and thrown over the bodies of the loved ones or praying in trembling breaths for their trip beyond. 

Nabooru took up the place next to Aveil silently, willing herself to look at the body of the fallen warrior. She looked as though she slept, her blades placed in her hands and crossed over her body as dictated a fallen warrior. Several cuts and bruises littered the woman’s form from her battles, but the puncture in her middle where the sword ran her through from the back sank her stomach like a stone despite the cleaning and mending the healers had done to make Vanas more presentable. 

Kija nodded a greeting, her expression stony and verging on anger. With a sniff, Aveil wiped her teary eyes and drippy nose and cast her best friend a half-hearted smile. “H-hi, Nabs. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to dinner. Vai’na...” She trailed off as she glanced back at her mother again, lips trembling as she tried to hold back her tears. 

“It’s okay. I...I heard...” She reached down and grabbed her friend’s hand. “I brought you dinner, though. In case you’re hungry. It’s on your bed. I even nabbed the last of the hydromelon for you.” 

“Thanks.” she sniffed. “You’re the best.” 

A length of silence fell between the three girls, the only sound the sobs of other mourners and the pop of Kija’s knuckles as she worried each one. Nabooru glanced her way, watching as her expression darkened gradually, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth. Was she angry about her mother’s death or how it happened? 

Finally: “That’s it. I’m going. I have to.” Her sudden assertion drew the gaze of both younger girls to Kija. She rested her hand over one of her mother’s and squeezed. “Vai’na would want it. It’s my duty.” 

“Wait, going where?” Aveil released Nabooru’s hand and rounded on her sister, eyes wide as she gazed up into her sibling’s resolute face. “Kija, what--?” 

“Aveil.” Kija knelt down, bringing herself to eye level with Aveil and Nabooru. She rested her hands on her sister’s shoulders, forcing Aveil to hold her gaze. “While I’m away, I need you to promise me to train hard. Pay attention in class. Become the best warrior you possibly can and then push yourself harder. Can you do that?” 

Aveil choked on her response, hot tears welling in her eyes and dripping down her cheeks and off her jaw. She stuttered over questioning her sister and trying to stop her from leaving. To where, Nabooru could only guess. She felt as though she had missed an integral part of the conversation, perhaps before her own mother escorted her down there. What would their mother want of Kija? What duty did she mean? 

“I...I don’t...I...” 

Kija shushed Aveil and pressed her forehead to the younger Gerudo’s for a brief moment. “Promise me. Learn to keep yourself safe. Alive.” 

“I-I will. I promise, Kija.” 

The elder Gerudo held her sister’s eyes for a long moment, the flicker of the torch near them casting grim shadows over each of their faces and brightening their gold eyes. Her thumb wiped Aveil’s tears, and she offered her sibling a sad smile. “Good. I know you will. You have vai’na’s genes in you, too. 

“And you, Nabooru.” The sudden snap of her tone, the utterance of her own name, whipped Nabooru from her tumultuous thoughts of trying to work out what Kija meant and why it upset Aveil. She straightened and averted her attention unflinchingly at the elder Gerudo. “I’ve seen you fight. And I hear all the rumors and complaints by the girls even my age that you best.” 

Nabooru puffed up in triumph; the praise from Kija was almost as good as if it came from her mother. Maybe even better than if it came from Yazu or Bruvi. Though she never got the chance to spar her yet, Nabooru knew Kija would put her through her paces far better than any of the other girls her age. 

Kija squeezed Nabooru’s shoulders and refocused her. “Use that goddess-given and natural talent of yours. You train hard, too. I know it’s both of your ambitions to rise to Elite status and I expect you both to do it. Make a difference.” She snatched Aveil’s hand, stilling her. “Promise to protect my sister. Protect each other. There’s strength in comradery, in your friendship. Stick together and keep each other safe.” 

Nabooru nodded, slow in her confusion. “Of course. She’s my best friend, Kija.” 

“Good.” Kija pressed a kiss to her sister’s forehead and stood, returning Aveil’s embrace when the younger girl clung to her legs, sobbing. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before the rites.” 

The sisters clutched each other a moment longer before Kija released Aveil and strode back the way Nabooru had come. As she watched her back disappear beyond the doorframe, she felt Aveil patting her arm and struggling to find her hand. Nabooru grasped it again, feeling her shuddering frame as she tried to calm herself through merely holding her hand. “It’s alright, Aveil...you heard her. She’ll be back before you even miss her.” Her curiosity was too much, and she added, “Where’s she going, anyway?” 

Aveil swallowed, her grip tightening on Nabooru’s hand. She lifted her forearm and wiped her eyes. “Hyrule,” she squeaked. “T-to get revenge for...for vai’na.” 

\----------------------------- 

Over the course of the next three days, Nabooru hardly saw Aveil. Excused from her classes for a few weeks to mourn, her friend only attended a few lessons. As a distraction is what she told the instructors who questioned her decision. Dark clouds of sadness dampened her usual perkiness, despite her efforts to feign normalcy in front of others. Nabooru did her best to keep their conversations on anything but her mother or sister: the latest gossip, how lessons went she didn’t attend, a joke or two, any good news she could glean about anything and everything to lighten her mood. She didn’t know if it really did any good. Aveil still skipped meals and spent much of her time either in the crypt or sitting on the ledge of the canyon, watching the entrance to the valley for even a sign of her sister’s return. 

Word of Kija’s disappearance ignited the imaginations of the lower ranking Gerudo, each whispering more exaggerated than the last. Most assumed correctly in the motive behind her midnight ride, some saying she merely bribed the stable hands and guards at the gate to let her go by greasing their palms with some rupees while others got more creative, surmising that Kija tied up the stable hand and knocked the guards off the canyon wall and into the river below. Others said she ran off to the desert to try and get some blessing from the goddess that would make her stronger before attempting to exact her revenge on the Hylians. 

None of the rumors interested Nabooru, the whispers and ridiculousness of them only irritating her in the end. Though most tried to curb their whisperings when Aveil was in earshot, she knew her friend heard how they talked, how some counted her last living relative among the dead. She hated it. It hurt Aveil to hear that, and it angered her. How could they know anything for sure? They weren’t out there! 

She finished filling Aveil’s plate, brows lowering a degree with each word the pair of teens at a table behind her spoke. One had nearly incurred her wrath by mentioning that Kija’s disappearance suited them because it meant less competition for them. Her fingers tightened on ceramic, but she paused half turn, their words finally interesting her. She slowed her task, ears perked to catch each detail. 

“--overheard Bruvi talking to Yazu before the Elite’s morning meeting. A messenger from the battlefront had delivered news. A bunch of warriors were taken prisoner by the Hylian forces. They said one was Kija, and she was covered in blood. She was worn out, but uninjured when they scooped her up, so it must’ve been someone else’s.” 

Nabooru nearly dropped the plate. If the information came from Bruvi, it must be true. Captured. She could get away. Kija was clever and strong. There was no way the Hylians would keep her long. She would make it back before her mother’s rites in two days, just like she promised. She piled food faster, eager to tell Aveil the news. 

The other girl whistled. “Prisoner they say. We all know that means they’re going to kill them. Likely after they...well, you know. I heard the Hylian soldiers have a real violent streak with Gerudo warriors...It’s disgusting...” 

The young girl failed to hear any more of the conversation. Blood pulsed in her head and impaired her hearing as the excited flutter of her heart slowed to a near dead halt. She felt sick. That wasn’t right. Kija was supposed to come back. A hero who exacted her revenge on the rotten, coward of a dog that cut her mother down. They couldn’t kill her, they couldn’t. 

Tossing another few cuts of meat on the plate, Nabooru staggered out of the mess hall, trying to keep herself from puking from the sudden nausea that washed over her. She rushed out of the fortress and to the valley, ignoring the greetings or questions of where she headed in such a rush. She needed to see Aveil. How would she be holding up if she had heard the news, too? She had promised Kija to take care of Aveil. She needed to be there for her. 

She found Aveil perched on the canyon wall as she usually did the last few days, legs dangling over the edge as she diligently watched the valley entrance. Heaving, Nabooru reached her, struggling to catch her breath. “I brought...You dinner,” she said between breaths. She held out the plate when Aveil craned around to look up at her friend. A mixture of sadness and hope swam in her puffy eyes as she took the plate and nodded her thanks. “Thought you’d be hungry since you missed the noon meal.” 

“Thanks, Nabs.” She set the plate to her left side as Nabooru took up the place on her right. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” 

Nabooru worried a hole in the fabric of her pants, eyes darting from Aveil’s face, to the wooden plank allowing access to the valley, then back to her friend. “Have you heard anything? A-about your sister?” 

Aveil sighed and shook her head. “No. Nothing yet. But I think that’s good, isn’t it?” For the first time since her mother’s passing, Nabooru heard a hint of elation in her friend’s voice. She hadn’t heard about Kija possibly taken prisoner, or of the fate she and the others would likely face. That hopeful lilt in her tone, the momentary gleam in her eyes...for a minute, Nabooru had her friend back. But, she needed to know the truth, didn’t she? She had been taught to be honest, and friends told each other everything. And yet...she couldn’t bring herself to tell her the dire news. To steal away even that smallest ounce of hope she had. 

“She’s gonna come back. I know it,” Aveil went on, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “We may not have vai’na, but we’ll have each other.” 

A beat of silence fell between them. Finally, Nabooru nodded with a smile of her own. “Yeah. She’ll be home before we know it. I can already hear all the stories she’ll tell.”


End file.
